


We're Locked In

by Lunafeather



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alistair/Basdea Brosca, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 19:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5017321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunafeather/pseuds/Lunafeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basdea Brosca and Alistair find themselves accidentally locked in a tiny storage closet after she sees another woman flirting with him and runs away. Alistair utilizes their rare time alone to reassure her and boost her self esteem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Locked In

**Author's Note:**

> There is an exceptional lack of Alistair/Brosca in this fandom, don't you think? I decided that instead of bitching, I would help fix it!
> 
> This story is set sometime after Alistair and Basdea (pronouned bahs-DAY-uh or bass-DAY-uh) have tentatively committed to one another and shared a few kisses, but well before they do the do/profess their love.
> 
> Inspired by the 200 word drabble prompt "We're Locked In", hence the title. Obviously I failed the drabble part.

She sinks her teeth into the chunk of cheese, biting off a large section and happily chewing as she makes her way back down the street towards Alistair. She savors the flavor on her tongue, the salty, bright tones and subtle twang.

She moves around a couple arguing in the middle of the path, and then she sees them - a human woman, tall and gently curved, hovering in Alistair’s space. Her skin is pale and dewy, unmarred save for rosy cheeks. She smiles coquettishly at the man in front of her, gazes at him through her lashes. Long fingers pinch at the fabric of her dress behind her back. Nervous, but eager. Silky blonde curls cascade down over her shoulders.

Basdea freezes, one hand holding her portion of cheese just out of reach of her lips, the other hand suspended in midair, grasping Alistair’s portion.

His arms are crossed, but he leans in a little - or is she just imagining that...?

The woman laughs, a tinkling giggle that sends ripples through her luscious locks. A slender hand reaches out to brush against Alistair’s arm. Even from this distance, Basdea can see the way the warrior’s face burns bright red.

He smiles politely at the girl, and looks as if he means to move away from her when he glances over and catches Basdea’s eye.

She turns and stomps off, completely missing the affectionate grin he aims her way.

“Dea!”

She ignores him, short legs carrying her quickly around a corner and down an alley. She elbows through a wooden door and down a hallway, uncaring of whoever’s property she’s trespassing on, but Alistair’s height means long legs have him on her heels in moments.

“Dea,  _wait_.”

She doesn’t speak. She  _can’t_ , for fear that voicing her feelings will make it all too easy for the tears welling up to fall. So instead she flees.

Weaving through a hall stuffed with boxes, she makes a sharp left into a tiny storage room. She doesn’t have time to warn Alistair of the dead end - his larger frame bumps the boxes next to the door to the space as he follows her around the corner, and it swings shut behind him with a loud thud. Apparently the boxes had been propping the door open.

As said door slams, Alistair barrels into her, the pair of them smooshing up against shelves of even more boxes. Darkness falls around them, save for a sliver of light through a crack in the door jam.

Alistair immediately steps back, large hands cupping her shoulders and turning her around, assessing the damage even though he can barely make out the planes of her face.

“Are you alright?”

Basdea is too distracted by how close he’s standing, the warmth radiating from him. She shrugs.

“What is all of this about, Dea? Why were you running away from me?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Reeeally?” Skepticism drips from the word. “So much  _nothing_  that you even forgot about our cheese?”

She starts, looking down at her hands. The short wooden sticks piercing their snacks remain firmly grasped in tight fists. “Oh,” she says.

She  _had_  completely forgotten them.

Still, though, the threat of tears remains. She shakes her head vigorously, enough that he can see the motion. She slides by him, passing one of the skewers into her other hand. She jiggles the door handle. It doesn’t budge.

“Ah, nugshit.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

She tries the handle again, but it is stiff and unmoving. She gives the door itself a hard shove. Nothing.

“Oh no.” Understanding dawns in his voice.

He comes up behind her, chest pressed into her back, so that he can try the handle as well. She stiffens at the sensation of him so near.

“I tried that already,” she snaps, immediately regretting the venom in the words.

He ignores her, as he often does when she is unnecessarily tart. “May I?” he says instead, maneuvering her out of the way so that he can attempt to shoulder the door open. Still, nothing. “Well,” he says, surprisingly matter of fact, “we’re locked in.”

Basdea leans heavily against the wall, heaving out a sigh. Alistair remains quiet, but she knows there is no way of escaping his eventual questions. And she owes him answers now, doesn’t she? Seeing as she got them stuck in here in the first place.

It’s a long moment before he lifts a hand to her face, gently cradling her cheek. “Dea...” The way he says her name... she could melt into a puddle right here in this very spot. Her eyes flutter closed. Images of him and that girl from minutes before flash in her mind and the tears return with a vengeance.

_Why me?_

“What do you mean?”

Her eyes shoot open.  _She didn’t mean to say that out loud. Andraste’s tits._

Now that their vision has adjusted, she can see the confusion and worry etched in his expressive face. Guilt washes over her.

“Why me, Alistair?” Her voice is small. Tight.

He flounders, baffled by the question. “Why you....... what?”

She huffs. “I saw you with that girl.”

His mouth falls open, looking offended. “I wasn’t-”

“I know you weren’t. I just...” She shakes her head, stares down at her feet. “You could have any girl, Alistair. That one was ready to fall all over you.”

She glances at him for a second, watches a blush climb up his ears. “Well that would have been alarming.” His crack at humor glances off of her chilled mood.

“Everywhere we go, women see you. I know you’re as oblivious as the void, but I’m  _not_. I grew up hyper aware of the way people look at me. They see you next to me and they-” She stops suddenly, her voice cracking on the words. She admits she felt the tiniest twinge of jealousy, when she saw them standing there. But more than anything she felt...inadequate.

Alistair makes a noise of dissent, but Basdea is talking again before he can get a word in edgewise.

“What could you possibly see in me? I’m just some casteless dolt who couldn’t even whore herself out!” The tears come then, much to her humiliation. She wipes hastily at her cheeks with her empty hand, trying to stave them off, but they spill relentlessly on.

“Hey, now!  _Hey_.” Alistair tugs her forward, folding her into his arms. She buries her face against his chest and chokes down her sobs. “’Why her’, this silly woman asks of me,” he murmurs to himself. “This amazing woman, who did whatever she could to protect her family, even if it meant putting herself in danger, even if it meant risking her life over and over again. This woman, who spat in the faces of those who considered her worthless because of her blood and the mistakes of the distant past.” He peppers kisses against the crown of her head.

“’Why her’, asks this woman whose voice crackles like honey over embers, whose eyes glimmer like pools of steel and ice. This woman with the most adorable knob of a nose I’ve ever seen, with a smile that could light the void for an eternity. Whose rough, work hardened hands are at once the most lethal and most gentle. Whose sword can fell any foe, whose might in battle leaves me awed and, to be quite honest, a little turned on.”

Basdea feels the start of a blush on her cheeks, even as she stutters out a wary breath. Alistair’s hand finds her face again, titling it up so that he can hold her gaze. An affectionate smile pulls the corners of his lips upwards.

“’Why her’, she asks, this lady filled with passion and honesty. Who fights to give voice to the voiceless, to grant second chances to those who wish to fix their mistakes. Who’s heart is big enough for eight unruly yet lovable companions. And Morrigan.” Smirking at her, his quip earns a watery smile. He leans down to press a kiss to her forehead, the tip of her nose, the point of her chin. “This woman, who would sacrifice her life without a second thought so that others may live on in her stead.” A kiss against one cheek. “Whose curiosity and recklessness has, surprisingly,  _not_  gotten anyone killed.” A kiss against the other cheek.

“’Why her’, she asks.  _Pah_ , I say to that. _Pah!_  I will not stand idly by as someone tries to insinuate that my lady is not worthy of utmost respect and absolute devotion. Even if that someone is my lady herself.” A kiss against her lips, chaste and lightning quick. He slides one hand into the short bob of her ginger hair, the other dropping to her hip.

When he speaks again, his voice is husky and low. “I must also add... it is no secret that I am most pleased by my dear lady’s shape as well.” His words curl around her ear as his hand curls around her waist. “How many times I have almost lost a few toes to traps due to the distraction of her delicious thighs? How many times have I dreamt of her form, warm and pliant in my arms?” He rumbles this against her mouth, his lips brushing tantalizingly against hers. “How often do I consider carrying her off into the wilderness to have my way with her?”

He pauses to lick his lips. She mewls at the action, her blood like fire in her veins. Before he can speak again, she kisses him fully, deeply, mouth opening against his, tongue seeking his. His groan vibrates through both their chests as he crushes her to him, the hand on her waist sliding down to mold to the curve of her ass and lift her up against him.

They had never kissed quite like this before, never alone long enough for their passion to consume them so completely. The only coherent thought to pass through Basdea’s mind is how magnificent kissing him feels.

The sound of metal scraping metal jolts in her ears. The two freeze, still nuzzled together. She realizes a second too late that the sound was a key turning the lock - the door sways open, blinding them as light floods the small space. They jump apart, faces ablaze.

“Who the hell’re you?” A crotchety old elf stands in the doorway, key in hand. He shuffles out of the way so that Basdea and Alistair can squeeze out into the hallway.

“Don’t mind us!” Alistair croaks. He grabs Basdea’s hand and drags her down the hallway and out of sight of the elf. 

“You better not’ve stole nothing!” He calls after them.

They both sigh deeply once they’re back outside in the alley. Alistair intertwines their fingers, grinning at her and pulling her close. He leans in to kiss her again when she suddenly looks down and chortles out a little laugh.

“What?”

She holds up her other hand. Two forgotten chunks of cheese, one bitten into, sit atop their skewers.

“For you, ser.” Alistair takes the still-whole piece and pops the entire thing into his mouth. Basdea giggles and steps even closer until their chests are pressed together. “Thank you, Alistair.”

“For?” The word is an obstructed grumble, but she understands it perfectly.

“For...you know, everything.” Her eyes dart back to where they exited the building.

Alistair swallows his mouthful, then tips her chin up. “No need to thank me, my lady. I simply spoke the truth.”

A great wave of emotion washes over her, new and a little terrifying. While she’s never been in love before, she highly suspects that that is currently what is happening.

She doesn’t get the chance to panic - Alistair kisses her with fervor, hands finding her waist.

She hopes he’s falling in love, too.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr @ lunafeather.tumblr.com <3


End file.
